


And he's got his gun, he's got his suit on

by ihaveacleverfandomurl



Series: Twinyards Appreciation Week 2019 [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Established Relationship, M/M, Mobster Neil, andrew and neil moved in together only andrew doesn't know neil's occupation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveacleverfandomurl/pseuds/ihaveacleverfandomurl
Summary: Neil's been stabbed, but hey, that's what the head of a mob has to deal with sometimes. He just didn't count on his boyfriend finally finding out about what he does for a living.(November 5 - Bottle Episode)
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Twinyards Appreciation Week 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534991
Comments: 14
Kudos: 247
Collections: Twinyards Appreciation Week 2019





	And he's got his gun, he's got his suit on

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Twinyards Appreciation Week](https://twinyardsappreciationweek.tumblr.com/)!  
AND ALSO: "if you want, the prompts “we’re dating and I didn’t know you were a mobster” or “you caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out” sound fun >:) for andreil or whoever you want honestly"  
prompted by anonymous!  
title from [Robbers by The 1975](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjHgiSx0RNQ)  
-  
This doesn't even feel like Twinyard week bc I’m basic bitching it and turning it entirely Andreil,,,still trash for the OG otp

Neil hissed through his teeth as he pressed at his stinging side, limping across the threshold of his not-yet-month-old home. His hand came away slick with red, and he swore colorfully as he slammed the door, letting himself slump against it and pant. The damned knife had gotten him good. But the following bullets had gone wide, because Neil had been on his attackers in a heartbeat.

Neil didn’t tend to show assailants the door with merely a pair of handcuffs. They left in body bags — if they were lucky.

Well, nothing like breaking in a new house with a little blood. It was about time, after all. He honestly didn’t know how he’d lasted this long without getting a little banged up.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe, to relax, before a new kind of panic gripped his chest. His watch told him it was nearly five, much later than he’d anticipated, much later than was safe. Andrew would be home any minute, would see him, bloody and beaten in a suit that was supposed to be worn for a _boring office desk_ _job_.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, tugging off his jacket that peeled away from his side painfully reluctantly, sticking to white button down and open wound beneath.

He could shower, stuff the clothes into the garbage bin outside, clean himself up, and Andrew wouldn’t know any better, right? It would be fine.

Except the key was already clicking in the lock, the door shoved open with a foot, Andrew’s arms full of grocery bags, earbuds winding down to his pocket as he kicked the door closed. Neil could only stand frozen, caught, as his boyfriend looked up and promptly dropped everything.

“What the fuck, Neil?”

An apple, already bruising beyond repair, rolled to a stop against Neil’s shiny shoe toe, and he wet dry lips, trying to think of how exactly he could explain —

“Were you mugged?” Andrew had vaulted their spilled groceries, hand hovering over the still spreading red splotch on Neil’s side, not touching, eyes flashing sharp. “I’ll kill them.”

Ah. Yes. Regular people…had that happen to them. Mugging.

“I, uh…” His phone rang, loud and startling. More so, because that was the tone he’d set for work contacts. He swallowed and reached to silence it, but the phone buzzed text after text, and Neil’s blood turned to ice.

MORIYAMAS KNOW YOUR LOCATION.

It shouldn’t have involved _them_. It has been a petty small time gang that Neil had been jumped by — entirely within his rights to kill every last one, for messing with a Butcher.

THEY’RE COMING.

God, not now.

STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS, NATHANIEL.

Neil heard the gunshots, down the street, and Andrew’s hands closed around Neil’s wrists, yanking them both down low to the ground.

WE WILL COVER THE HOUSE. WILL TEXT WHEN SAFE.

Neil sighed, rolled back to his feet with a wince, and locked the door. Andrew stared up at him, wary.

No, Andrew wasn’t stupid. It was time to tell him, wasn’t it?

* * *

“You’re the head of a mob,” Andrew repeated, from where he sat on the edge of the sink.

“It was passed down to me,” Neil said again, gritting his teeth as he pulled off his shirt, going for the first aid supplies. “It wasn’t my first choice of occupation.”

Andrew had blinked when Neil had taken the gun from the hidden compartment in his bedroom side table. His eyebrow had twitched when Neil dragged their bookshelf — with some difficulty and pain — to blockade the bathroom door behind them.

When Neil had flicked on the bathroom light and let out a breath as he looked at Andrew, Andrew had folded his arms, narrowed his eyes, and said, “Talk.”

“And you got stabbed because of your job,” Andrew said now, staring at the admittedly quite bad wound Neil was treating. “We’re hiding here now, because of that same job?”

“It’s not an everyday occurrence. Usually I get them before they get me. Or one of my…associates does.” Neil tried to wrap a bandage around his torso, fumbling, and Andrew slid from the sink to do it himself.

“You didn’t think to tell me, once, in two years?” he asked, as he wrapped. “Not even when we bought this place.”

Neil felt a stab of guilt — much worse than the physical wound — and caught hold of Andrew’s jacket sleeve. His boyfriend always looked nice in his pressed button ups, his tight-fitting black jacket that he wore to teach. Well put together, past his life of juvie and all the wrong medications until he finally found the right ones, past the violence the world had inflicted on him again and again. Neil hadn’t wanted to ruin that with his own present. But…

“I wanted to tell you, before we even started dating,” he confessed. “But I always — always figured I could handle myself. And I didn’t want you to have to.”

Andrew stared back, and slid something from his sleeve. Neil looked down to a wicked looking blade sitting in Andrew’s palm, and his breath caught. “You still carry them?”

“Tell me the next time you plan on putting yourself in danger. I will not stand by and let them stab you without paying for it,” Andrew said, as Neil’s phone vibrated again.

ONE IN THE HOUSE.

Neil chewed on his lip and looked up at Andrew, raising an eyebrow as he popped off the safety on his gun and let his hand rest on the door knob. There was a scraping sound on the other side of the door, the slide of a heavy bookshelf being shoved to the side. “Well, then. Should we make them pay now?”

Andrew’s answering smile was deadly.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: let me know which of the Twinyard Week fics you'd like to see added to/rewritten & expanded first [in this poll](https://www.quiz-maker.com/poll2600440x78d64920-74)!  
hi I kinda hate this oof......wish i'd tried to write this entire week ahead of time instead of by the day  
also do you ever put shoe & toe next to each other at 3am and realize the English language is weird as fuck  
-  
feel free to chat to me about aftg on tumblr @ [foxy-exy](https://foxy-exy.tumblr.com/)! [Here's my rebloggable fic post](https://foxy-exy.tumblr.com/post/188845825703/and-hes-got-his-gun-hes-got-his-suit-on)! & here's [my cosplay instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kayizcray/) with some aftg cosplay on it!  
-  
comments are my lifeblood ( ˘ ³˘)♥


End file.
